Harry Potter: Year Three Done My Way
by shadow12
Summary: What would happen if Harry had unlocked a new power the night of Marge's mistake in the summer after his second year? How would this change him and those around him? And what if due to this, he finds the one thing he's missed out on all along?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so here's my take on Harry's third year of Hogwarts, might just take it through the rest of the books if this is popular enough.**

**Summary: What would happen if Harry had unlocked a new power the night of Marge's mistake in the summer after his second year? How would this change him and those around him? And what if due to this, he finds the one thing he's missed out on all along? **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

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**Chapter one: The Beginning**

Some days, it just does not pay to get out of bed. Unfortunately, if your name happened to be Harry Potter, that statement was uncomfortably close to being the story of your life.

On this particular day especially, since it was now proven to be a day he wouldn't soon forget. Though, as Harry sat on the side of a street several blocks from his home, with his trunk full of his things and his owls empty cage on top of that, he could tell it had yet to be finished, and he had seen enough in his short life to know enough to never discount just how unexpected a day could get without seeing it through to its conclusion.

'_Just how did I get myself into this?' _Harry asked himself, his emerald colored eyes wirily scanning his surroundings as he raked a hand through his untidy raven hair.

'_If that fat hag hadn't even visited….'_ His thoughts trailed as anger once again surged through him at the mention of his uncle's sister.

Oh yes, that was the reason he was in the situation he was currently in, _Aunt Marge._ The very thought of her sent a new swell of anger through his system as he remembered the events leading up to now.

* * *

'_You can do this Harry, just one last night and then she's leaving.' _Harry thought as he sat at the dinner table and watched his rather beefy uncle offer another glass of brandy to his equally beefy sister.

"Can I tempt you, Marge?" Vernon Dursley asked holding the brandy bottle up.

Marge, her huge face having grown more and more red throughout the night, lifted her glass up for her fourteenth glass.

"Just a small one, then," she chuckled, allowing Vernon to pour a small amount of wine into the glass. "A bit more than that…a bit more…that's the ticket."

Dudley, Harry's cousin and almost a mirrored image of his father and aunt in the size department, was already on his fourth slice of pie. Petunia, Harry's aunt and a rather thin woman with a long neck, was sipping a cup of coffee with her pinky sticking out.

So far the night had been going well; they'd made it through the appetizer and the main course without so much of a word about Harry's faults, something Marge had been and was keen on commenting about whenever she visited the Dursley residence.

Even then Harry knew that it was a false hope to expect them to stay away from that topic completely and desperately wanted to skip dessert and disappear into his bedroom. But one look from his uncle's angry little eyes dashed that thought.

"Aah," Marge said, smacking her lips and putting the newly empty wine glass down. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a small one every now and then in the evening, with twelve dogs to look after…"she belched loudly and patted her large stomach. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy sized boy," she went on with a wink at Dudley. "You'll be a proper sized man, Dudders, like your father." She praised, excepting another glass of brandy from Vernon. "Now this one here-"

'_Here we go.' _Harry thought, feeling his stomach clench in apprehension. '_Just ignore her, think of the hand book.' _He thought, thinking of the instruction manual that had come with the birthday present one of his friends, Hermione Granger, had sent him. This method had worked well to keep her belittlement from getting to him during the duration of Marge's stay. Tonight unfortunately, that was not meant to be.

"This one's got a mean, rutty look about him. You get the same thing with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred."

'_Of course,' _Harry thought bitterly, his mind trailing from a charm that cured broomsticks which were reluctant to reverse. _'Comparing me to an animal that can be put down; simply because I don't live up to her exceedingly low expectations.' _

"It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm not saying anything bad about your family, Petunia," she said reaching over and patting Petunia's bony hand with her own, oblivious to Harry tightly clenching his fists tell his knuckles popped at his sides. "But your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best of families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result, right in front of us."

Harry stared at his plate, trying to ignore everything around him as he desperately tried to remember how to fix a problem with a broom's tail. But Marge's voice bored into him like one of Vernon's company made drills.

"This Potter," Marge said loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and refilling her glass, but getting more all over the table cloth then in the glass itself, "you never told me what he did?"

Vernon and Petunia looked at each other tensely, and Dudley even looked up from his pie, curious at what his parents would say.

"He-didn't work," Vernon said, sending a half glance at Harry. "Unemployed."

'_If she says one more word about my parents I'm gonna-' _Harry thought glaring at his plate, but his mind went blank with what was said next.

"As I expected!" Marge exclaimed, taking a huge swig of her brandy and wiping her chin with her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who-"

"He was not," Harry said suddenly, the table went quiet. Harry's form was shaking all over and his eyes burned with a fury none of those present had seen before.

"MORE BRANDY!" Vernon yelled, his face having gone white at Harry's outburst. He emptied the rest of the bottle into Marge's glass. "You, boy," he snarled at Harry. "Get to bed, go on-"

"No, Vernon," Marge hiccupped, holding up a hand to stop her brother mid-speech as her tiny, bloodshot eyes locked onto Harry. "Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash, drunk I expect-"

"My parents did not die in a car crash!" Harry shouted; standing and slamming his hands down on the table.

Unknown to everyone, a harsh wind began blowing outside.

"They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!" Marge screamed, swelling with fury. You are an insolent, ungrateful little-"she was unable to finish because Harry had suddenly leapt over the table and now had his hands around her neck.

So surprised by the usually subdued boys actions, the Dursleys could only watch in wide eyed horror.

"Now listen here, you fat bitch!" Harry snarled, somehow lifting the large women out of her chair, his grip tightening around her neck.

"My parents died protecting me from a murderer!" he shouted in rage. "That's a lot more than what I would expect from these pieces of shit; at least my parents wouldn't have beaten me on a weekly basses!" he shouted just as Vernon and Petunia sprang up and tried to pull him away from the petrified hag.

"THAT'S ENOUGH POTTER!" Vernon shouted, jumping up and gripping one of Harry's arms, only to pull back with a yelp of pain as a golden flame shot out of Harry's arm, burning his palm before he could even touch him.

Turning his attention from the bluing women in his grip, Harry glared at his uncle, his eyes glowing white.

"No. That's enough from you!" he shouted as the windows burst in a shower of glass and a fierce wind blew Vernon across the room where he impacted the wall and fell to the floor, right on top of Marge's prized dog, Ripper, with a sickening crunch. "Vernon!" Petunia shouted in worry, rushing over to her husband's side.

Turning his attention back to the fat women, Harry glared at her, but let her drop from his grip and crumble to the floor, where she coughed and spluttered as oxygen surged into her lungs.

But her terror was not over yet, because from that point on she seemed to swell. Her Purple face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, her tiny mouth stretched too tightly for her screams of terror to escape. A second later several buttons from her tweed jacket burst off it and pinged off the walls. She was inflating into a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free from tweed waist band, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami and her body began to rise from the floor toward the ceiling.

She was entirely round now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. The wind only got harsher as it continued to blow around the room through the open window, causing her to bounce around the room erratically.

Harry tore from the dining room before anyone could stop him, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door magically burst open as he reached it. In a matter of seconds he heaved his trunk to the front door and headed up stairs to collect his things from beneath the loose floorboard under his bed and Hedwig's empty cage. He dashed down stairs and jammed his things into his trunk just as a dizzy Vernon stumbled into the hallway, his hand blackened from where the white flame had burnt him.

"COME BACK IN HERE!" he bellowed as his eyes locked onto Harry. "COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"

But a reckless rage had settled over Harry's mind. He slipped his wand from under his sleeve and pointed it between Vernon's eyes.

One thing he'd been able to do when he'd snuck his spell books into his room earlier that summer was grab his wand and since then had taken to hiding it in his sleeve.

"She deserved what she got," Harry spat angrily. "She's lucky I didn't do anything worse. Now, I am going to walk out that door and you _will not_ stop me. Got it?"

Vernon didn't say anything; his gaze was too focused on the wand in Harry's hand. Harry's eyes narrowed further, "GOT IT?" he yelled, bringing it closer to his uncle's face as it sent out angry red sparks.

Vernon nodded fearfully as Harry reached behind him and opened the door.

However, just as he was about to step out the door he turned his head and regarded his uncle over his shoulder. "I hope for your sake you've learned not to make me angry again."

Heaving his trunk behind him, and Hedwig's cage tucked under his arm, Harry slammed the door shut and walked out into the dark, quiet street.

* * *

And so here he was, having sat on a low wall in Magnolia Crescent to rest when the effort of dragging his heavy trunk had become too much, ten minutes later, thinking on how his day had gone from bad to worse in a matter of minutes.

Thinking back on it, Harry had to let out a chuckle. Finally he had gotten back at the ones who had raised him in isolation, the ones who had been his tormenters for the last thirteen years of his life, and the ones who made his life a living hell.

But he quickly snapped himself out of those thoughts; if any of his friends had been present they would have berated him for having such thoughts. Well Hermione would have, Ron would most likely have congratulated him for finally getting back at the muggles (1) before muttering under his breath about how unfair life was, something that Harry whole heartily agreed on.

After a while of thinking like this a new emotion began to overtake him: panic. Whichever way he looked at it, Harry had never been in a worse fix in his life, well almost never seeing as last year he had had to face the conjured memory of Voldemort from a diary. But now he was stranded, alone, in the dark muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. Harry knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that had he continued to use that strange power he would have broken the Decree for Underage Wizardry so bad that it would have been in shambles. Hell, he was surprised that Ministry of Magic representatives weren't swooping down on him where he sat.

That actually led him to another question. Where had that power came from? In all honesty Harry didn't know. All he remembered was Marge's causing his already mounting temper to reach a boiling point, and then it had felt as if something within his mind had snapped and an unreal amount of power was suddenly rushing through him. Somehow he'd been able to conjure up a flame without his wand when his uncle had tried to touch him, and then take command of the wind to slam him against the wall a second later.

Harry shivered and looked up and down the street. What was going to happen to him now? Would he be arrested, or simply become an outlaw to the wizarding word? He thought of Ron and Hermione, what would they do when they heard of this? At the thoughts of his friends, Harry's heart sank. He was sure that, criminal or not, Ron and Hermione would want to help him in any way they could, but they were both abroad, and having sent Hedwig to the Weasleys when Marge had arrived, he had no way of contacting them.

He didn't have any muggle money, either. Though there was some wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of his trunk, he would be unable to use it for a taxi or bus. And besides, the rest of his fortune was locked away in Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. There was no way he'd be able to drag his trunk halfway across the country. Unless...

Harry looked down at his wand, which was still clutched tightly in his hand. If he was already expelled, a thought that caused his heart to painfully speed up, a bit more magic wouldn't hurt. He had the invisibility cloak he'd inherited from his father, if he could manage to bewitch the trunk to make it feather light and tied it to his broom and then covered himself with the cloak, could he make it to London?

The rest of the plan taking root in his mind, Harry was about to bend down and open his trunk when he shivered again. _'Damn it's chilly.'_ He thought, rubbing his arms throw his sleeves, why hadn't he thought to grab his jacket on the way out? It wasn't like his magic could keep him warm…_'wait a minute.' _He thought as a sudden idea came to him and he looked around.

If he had made that gold fire once, maybe he could again? It was worth a try at least.

Raising his empty hand to eye level, Harry tried to will it to catch fire…nothing happened.

He sighed and shook his head; of course he couldn't do it again. He'd been too hyped up on his adrenalin and anger to even realize how he had made it happen.

Harry opened his trunk and began to push the contents aside, searching for his Invisibility Cloak. He suddenly straightened up before he could find it, his head swiveling from side to side as he scanned the area around him once more.

There was a funny prickling on the back of his neck, it made him feel as if he was being watched. But the street was deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large houses.

He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched onto his wand tightly. He had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and fence behind him. Squinting, Harry turned to the black alleyway. If only it would move, then he'd know if it was a stray animal or something else.

"_Lumos," _Harry muttered, almost instantly Harry felt the familiar, soft drain on his magic as he channeled it through his wand and a soft golden light appeared on its tip, almost dazzling him. His brow quirked at the lights color, _'odd,'_ he thought, _'its not supposed to be that color.'_

However, his thoughts were pulled from the odd coloring of his spell when a glinting in the alley caught his attention. Raising his wand over his head, a gasp of shock escaped Harry's lips when he saw what was standing between the pebble dashed walls of the house and the gleaming garage door. A hulking out line of something big stood there, with wide gleaming eyes.

Harry stumbled backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew from his hand as he flung out his arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard in the gutter.

There was a deafening BANG, and Harry through his hands up in an attempt to shield his himself from a sudden blinding light.

With a yelp he rolled back onto the pavement and threw his hands out. There was a flash of golden light and the sound of something screeching to a halt…in the same spot his head had been a second before.

"Blimey, matty!" An unfamiliar voice exclaimed, "I've seen people flagging us down with a wand, but never with fire!"

Harry's head jerked up when he heard the voice to see that the bright light was coming from a pair of headlights belonging to a triple-decker, violently purple bus. _The Knight Bus_ was clearly printed above the windshield in gold letters.

For a split second Harry thought that he'd been knocked silly by his fall. Then his head raised a bit higher to see a conductor, dressed in the same shade of purple as the bus, standing in the doorway of the bus with a shocked look on his face.

Harry snatched up his wand and scrambled to his feet. Now that he was standing, Harry saw that the conductor was only a few years older than he was, maybe eighteen or nineteen at most, he had large, protruding ears and a fair few pimples doting his face.

"Sorry about that." Harry apologized, bowing his head slightly.

"What were you doin' down there?" the conductor asked.

"Fell over," was Harry's simple answer.

"'Choo fall over for?" the conductor sniggered.

"I didn't do it on purpose." Harry said in annoyance. One of the knees on his jeans was torn, and his hands were bleeding due to breaking his fall. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned to look at the alleyway. The headlamps on the Knight Bus had bathed the space between the fence and the garage with light and it was empty.

"'Choo lookin' at?" the conductor asked.

Harry continued to stare at the space for a moment before he shook his head, "nothing." He muttered.

"Yes…well," the conductor said, clearing his throat and puffing his chest out in an important manner. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for stranded witches and wizards. Just stick out your wand hand, step aboard and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening." The now named Stan said in a much more professional manner, stepping down from the bus and looking at Harry intently.

Harry quickly flattened his bangs against his forehead when he saw Stan's eyes begin to wonder towards his lightning shaped scar; if the Ministry was looking for him, he was not going to make it easy for them.

"Woss your name?" Stan asked curiously.

"N-Neville Longbottom," Harry said, giving out the first name that came to his head.

"So," Harry went on quickly, trying to distract the young conductor, "this bus, you said it'll go _anywhere?"_

"Yep," Stan said, giving the bus a proud pat on its side, "anywhere you'd like, so long's it's on land that is. Can't do nuffink under water." Stan's look turned suspicious. "You _did _flag us down, dincha? Shot a flame out of your 'and, dincha?"

"Yes," harry said quickly, not bothering to question about the flames. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?"

"Eleven sickles," Stan informed, "but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

Harry rummaged through his trunk, extracted his money bag, and shoved some gold into Stan's hand. After that he and Stan lifted, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.

There were no seats; instead, there were half a dozen brass bedsteads standing beside the curtained windows. Candles burned in brackets beside each, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. Several wizards and witches dressed in night caps slept in a few of the beds.

"You can 'ave this one." Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk a bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an arm chair behind the wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern.

Ernie nodded to Harry behind his thick glasses.

"Take 'er away, Ern." Stan said, leaning against the doorway between the driver's area and the main part of the bus.

There was another tremendous BANG and Harry found himself lying flat on his bed, thrown backwards due to the speed of the Knight Bus. Harry pulled himself out up and glanced out the window and found himself staring out on a completely different street. His expression must have shown his surprise because Stan was watching him in great enjoyment.

'_What the bloody hell?!_'Harry thought in amazement.

"This was where we was before you flagged us down." Stan said, drawing Harry's attention. "Where were we again, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"

A nod was all he got from the elderly driver.

Harry could only stare at the conductor in shock. There was no way a bus could travel over a hundred miles in an instant, even if it was magical.

'_Just what have I gotten myself into?'_

Yes, sometimes it just did not pay to be Harry Potter.

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**1.) The term Muggle mean those who are not of magic decent. Just incase there's any confusion.**

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**Cut!**

**Okay everyone here's the first chapter of my take on how Harry's and the gang's third year and beyond should have gone. This is only the first installment in a series and I might be able to get the next chapter out either sometime to night or tomorrow if I get enough reviews.**

**Please, please review.**


	2. A talk with the Minister

**Hey everyone sorry I couldn't get this out sooner, but I had something's to take care of first. **

**A little warning first before we get to the chapter, the beginning of this one is pretty close to the book in terms of the talk with the Minister at first. But fear not, because that is where the story starts to deviate from the original plot. **

**Oh, and to a review I got about last chapter: I know it may look like it and I may use some aspects of it later, but Harry does not have the abilities of the avatar, especially since he will only be able to use two of the elements and it is not through bending, my reasons for this are to be explained in this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of the Harry Potter Books. Those are the property of J. K. Rowling, and I'm pretty sure the movies belong to her and Warner Bros.**

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**Chapter two: A Talk with the Minister and Visiting the Family Vault**

Harry stepped onto the dark street in front of the Leaky Caldron, rubbing his nose, and with one thing very clear in his mind; never was he ever going to use the Knight Bus as a means of transportation again…ever.

He had to have been out of his mind to ride it in the first place.

The elderly driver, Ernie, had obviously not mastered the use of a steering wheel, because the bus had continuously mounted the pavement with every jerk of the wheel. Thankfully they didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, trash bins, mailboxes, and even houses jumped out of the way before the Knight bus had even gotten close to them and were back in their original position after it had passed.

The Knight Bus had taken a few hours to get to London as Stan and Ernie had to drop off several other passengers along the way, all of them, Harry noticed, had looked rather pleased to get off. His nose was still sore from being introduced, rather intimately I might add, to the window when Ernie had stomped on the breaks during on such stop.

Harry had used this time to think about what was going to happen to him, and wither or not the Ministry of Magic had gotten Marge off the ceiling yet. It was an hour or two before dawn when the Knight Bus finally came to a stop in front of the Leaky Caldron, behind which lay the entrance to the magical world, and more specifically; Diagon Alley.

It was here that harry had decided to start his plan. The first step would be to lay low for a few hours before Gringotts opened to collect as much of his fortune as he could carry, and then he'd set off; to where, he had no idea but he had to get out of the area, possibly the country, as soon as possible.

Harry sighed, as he turned to help Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage to the pavement.

"Well," he said to the pimply teen. "Bye then!"

But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus, he was gapping at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Caldron.

"_There _you are, Harry." A voice said.

Before he could turn, Harry felt a hand plant itself firmly on his shoulder. At the same time Stan shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere Come _'ere!_"

Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt himself freeze; he'd just walked right into the hands of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of magic himself.

Stan leapt down onto the pavement beside them.

"What didja call Neville, Minister?" he asked excitedly.

Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.

"Neville?" He repeated with a frown. "My good sir, this is Harry Potter."

"I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!"

"Yes," Fudge said testily, "well, I'm very glad the knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Caldron now…"

Fudge increased the pressure on Harry's shoulder, and Harry gulped silently when he found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord.

After a quick greeting for the landlord, and a goodbye for Stan and Ernie, Fudge led Harry down the hallway and into a private parlor.

"Sit down, Harry." Fudge instructed, snapping his fingers and conjuring up a glowing fire in the grate.

Harry sat, feeling goose bumps rising on his arms despite the warm glow of the fire, watching as Fudge rid himself of his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside before he sat in the chair opposite Harry.

"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic," Fudge began by introducing himself.

Harry nodded despite already knowing this. He'd seen the man in front of him before, but he'd been wearing his father's invisibility cloak then and couldn't let the man know that.

Tom the innkeeper reappeared wearing an apron over his nightshirt and carrying a tray of tea and crackers. He sat the tray down on the table between them and left the parlor, closing the door behind them.

"Well, Harry," Fudge said, pouring out some tea, "you've had us all in a bit of worry, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's like that! I'd stated to think…but your safe, and that's what matters."

Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate towards Harry.

"Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then…you will be pleased to know that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley, and Mr. Vernon Dursley's burnt hand. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Private Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all and Mr. Dursley has been patched up. So that's that, and no real harm done."

Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his tea cup, rather like uncle surveying a favorite nephew. Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.

"Are you by chance worrying about the reactions of your aunt and uncle?" Fudge asked. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."

Harry frowned and unstuck his throat.

"I _always _stay at Hogwarts during the holidays," he said, "and I _am not _going back there this summer!"

"Now, now, I'm sure that you'll feel differently once you've calmed down." Fudge said in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure that you are rather fond of each other-er-_very _deep down."

Harry didn't bother to put the minister right, so he stared at him with a blank face as he waited for what would happen to him. One thing was clear though, he was not going back to someplace that had beaten him, and if they didn't believe him they could look at his back; he had more than enough scars to prove it.

"So all that remains," Fudge began, ignoring Harry's look and buttering another crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last three weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Caldron and-"

"Hang on," Harry blurted, "what about my punishment?"

Fudge blinked, "Punishment?"

"I broke the law!" Harry insisted. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, plus I don't even know how I was able to use fire and wind spells without any incantations, then there was my _Lumos _spell and-"

"My dear boy, we're not going to punish you for little things like those!" Fudge cried, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban for blowing up there aunts or burning there uncle's hands!"

This, unfortunately, did not tally with all of Harry's past dealings with the ministry of Magic, and his temper began to rise again.

"Last year," he began with grit teeth, "I received an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house! The Ministry told me I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic use!" by now Harry's tone was beginning to rise.

And unless his eyes were mistaken, Fudge was starting to look uncomfortable.

"Circumstances change, Harry…. We have to take into account…in the present climate…. Surely you don't _want _to be expelled?"

"Of course I don't," Harry said.

"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" Fudge laughed as he pulled at his shirt caller. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a spare room for you."

With that Fudge stood and strode out of the parlor; Harry could only stare after him.

Several moments later Fudge came back into the room with Tom accompanying him.

"Room eleven is free, Harry," Fudge said. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing; and I'm sure you'll understand…don't go wondering off into Muggle London, alright? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will keep an eye on you for me."

"Okay," Harry said, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Why?"

"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" Fudge said with a hearty laugh. "No, no… best we know where you are… I mean…"

Fudge suddenly stopped and cleared his throat loudly before picking up his cloak.

"Well, I'll be of, plenty to do, you know…" he said as he stepped towards the door. But just before he could exit he looked back at Harry from over his shoulder. "Oh, and Mr. Potter," he said, for once using Harry's last name. "Do control your emotions better. After all, we wouldn't want anything bursting into flames or being blown away." With his warning delivered he left the room.

Harry stared after him in confusion as Tom moved forward with a beaming smile.

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter," he said, "I've already taken your things up…."

Harry followed the old innkeeper up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him with a flick of his wand.

Harry hardly had a chance to see the comfortable looking bed and highly polished oak furniture before there was a fluttering of wings and sudden weight on his shoulder.

"Hedwig!" Harry gasped in surprise at the sight of his snowy white owl.

Said owl hooted in greeting and stared at Harry affectionately, her large amber eyes seemingly amplified by the glow of the cackling fire.

"That's a very smart owl you've got there, Mr. Potter," Tom chuckled. "She arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need of me, don't hesitate to ask."

He gave a bow and left.

Harry sat on his bed with a sigh, and absently stroked Hedwig's feathers as he went over his conversation with the Minister. There was something going on and Harry had a feeling it somehow involved him. If not, then why was Fudge waiting for him at the Leaky Caldron, if he wasn't going to punish him for what he'd done? And now that Harry thought about it, it was extremely unusual for the Minister of Magic _himself_ to get involved with matters of underage magic. Speaking of the Minister he'd knew something about the power over the elements Harry had used, if that warning he gave was anything to go by.

Harry's eyes widened in realization and he brought the hand he'd been stroking Hedwig with up to his eyes. The snowy owl hooted at the loss of it and flew back to her perch on the wardrobe.

'_Did he give me that warning as a clue to use that power?' _Harry asked himself. It made since, seeing as he was angry when he used it the first time and surprised when he used it to flag the Knight bus down the second time. It would explain it since he hadn't been able to use it the first time he tried to _consciously _use it.

It was with this thought in mind that Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the feelings he'd felt when he used that fire on his uncle.

He concentrated on his anger primarily, but he'd felt other feelings when Marge had been belittling him. Sadness, pain, loneliness, and regret.

Harry concentrated on it all, willing it all into a ball of power and fed it into his hand, and it wasn't long before he felt a heat radiating his hand and saw a glow through his closed eye lids and heard Hedwig's alarmed screech.

His eyes flew open and he gapped in shock. There it was! Right there around his hand was a flickering gold flame; the soft sound of its crackling filled the stunned silence of the room. Harry stared at it for several minutes before he noticed that he was starting to sweat from the exertion of keeping the flame up and he let it dissipate.

"I-I did it," He whispered in shock. Soon a wide grin took birth on Harry's face and he let out a whoop of joy and fell back onto his bed.

He'd done it; he managed to conjure up a flame without his wand! Though it had taken a major drain on his magical core, his brow furrowed at that thought. _'It's going to take some time to properly control this power without it draining me of my magic.' _He thought.

It was that thought that led him to another idea, _'maybe Dad left a journal in Gringotts? Last summer, Griphook mentioned that I've only been using the trust account Mom (1) and Dad set up for me and there was another, lager vault for the rest of the fortune, maybe Dad left a journal for me in case something like this happened.' _

Oh he knew of that he'd only been using a trust fund to supply the money for his tuition and school books alright, and he was perfectly fine with it. But with the recent events, Harry was starting t get curious as to what exactly his parents had left for him. The only problem was that he couldn't open his other family vaults until he came of age or something 'specific' happened. At the time, Harry had been confused as to what the goblin had meant by 'specific events'. Maybe his being able to use fire and wind was what the goblin had meant.

With that thought in mind Harry allowed his eyes to close, and he drifted off into the first happy sleep he'd had in awhile.

* * *

The next few days where a haze for Harry. Never before had he been able to get when he wanted or eat whatever he pleased. He could even go where he wanted so long as it was Diagon Alley, and since the long cobbled street was packed with the most fascinating wizarding shops in the world, Harry felt no reason to break his word to Fudge and stayed out of the muggle world.

The first thing Harry had done when he woke up the morning after his arrival was go to Gringotts to both refill his money bag and talk to his account manager. The memory was still fresh in his mind even now, several days later.

* * *

"Excuse me," Harry asked politely as he approached the goblin sitting at the tall desk in the middle of the Gringotts lobby.

The goblin looked up from his work with a scowl, "yes?" he asked coldly.

Harry bit back a sigh; he could tell that this goblin, like many others, had no respect for humans and he could tell he was going to have to respond to the goblins disrespect with an equal amount of disrespect. After all, if Harry approached this goblin with respect after such a cold greeting, it would be shown as a weakness.

His gaze hardening, Harry stood up straight, and looked the goblin straight in the eye. "I am Harry Potter, and I wish to speak to Griphook as soon as he can be made ready."

The goblin stared down at Harry and Harry held his gaze, keeping his expression emotionless.

A moment later the goblin's mouth opened in a toothy grin and he nodded in a way that _could _be shown as respectful. "Of course, Mr. Potter, right this way."

The goblin led Harry through a small archway at the back of the lobby and disappeared, as soon as the goblin left Harry's shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. He hated acting like a pompous ass; it reminded him to much of Malfoy. But with goblins like that, it was a necessity

A few moments later and another goblin, this one already showing a healthy amount of respect to him, entered the room, bowing deeply. "Ah, Mr. Potter, forgive me, I was not expecting you."

Harry shook his head; he and Griphook had always been able to get along, even at their first meeting, though the goblin's formality was annoying at times. "There's nothing to forgive, Griphook, and I've told you before, call me Harry." Harry answered grinning down at the little goblin.

Griphook smiled in return before continuing, "What is it that you need of me, Harry? Surely you could have gotten to your vault with a different teller."

Harry sighed and shook his head again, "it's not so much that I need to get into my vault, it's the _vault _I need to get into." He said, putting extra emphasis on the word to get his appoint across.

Griphook nodded, but frowned. "I am sorry, Harry, but you know as well as I do; you cannot access your family's account unless you are of age or a specific requirement is met."

"Well, I think that requirement has been met." Harry said, raising his hand and willing it to catch fire.

Griphook's expression changed to shock at the sight, "I-Indeed it has."

"Could you tell me how I can do this, and what this is exactly?" Harry asked letting the fire dissipate and lowering his hand.

Griphook shook his head as he gestured for Harry to follow him and led him to a large cart. "Once again, I am sorry, Harry. But I have no idea as to how you are able to do that, and I believe it's best you find out yourself."

Harry was about to comment but was unable since the cart started moving at a rapid pace.

The cart took Harry further into the depths of Gringotts than what he had ever been before. The deeper they went the higher the stalagmites reached and the colder the area got around them.

Finally after almost ten minutes, the cart slammed to a stop in front of a large metal door labeled _1058. _

"Here we are, Harry, Vault 1058." Griphook announced, getting out of the cart.

"T-This is it?" Harry gapped as he took in the huge door.

Griphook nodded, "It is. Though your parents are only allowing you to remove the family spell books and your father's journal since you have met the requirement needed. You get access to the gold inside once you are of age." He explained pulling out a small key and inserting into the key hole, but he didn't turn it and instead turned to Harry as he pulled out a small dagger.

"Um, w-what's the knife for?" Harry asked nervously taking a step back.

"Your parents made sure that this vault was protected by more than a small key and goblin magic, seeing as it holds all the family treasures. As such we need a bit of your blood to lift the enchantments and key you into the wards before you can enter." Griphook explained holding the dagger out for him.

Harry nodded in understanding before taking the dagger and running the sharp edge over has palm, wincing as he felt the skin opening. After that he pressed his hand against the door.

"Very good," Griphook said with a bit of amazement at the boy's bravery. Not many people would willingly injure themselves, much less a thirteen year old.

After a good amount of blood had flowed onto the door Griphook healed Harry's hand with a bit of goblin magic and turned the key.

As the door opened it showed a large cavern with a high double door with the Potter family crest emblazed across them. Without any encouragement Harry walked boldly up to the doors and pushed them open.

As soon as he saw what was in the vault he felt as if he was going to faint. The room inside was at least five times larger than the caver outside. The center of the room was taken up by large tables with documents scatted across them and the walls were almost invisible due to the mountainous piles of gold and silver of all kinds. The far back wall was lined with bookcases, each one stocked full of books of all sizes. Just in front of those were cabinets full of personal items and knickknacks of all the previous Potters, and the floor close to that held all sorts of things from old cloths to brooms. Swords and other weaponry were scattered across tables around the room.

But there was one table in the center of the room that held Harry's attention. It was empty except for a small book and an envelope that had his name scribbled on it in an untidy scrawl, similar to his own. It was this table he walked to first and when he reached it he picked up the journal carefully, as if it were made of glass. The journal was faded, showing that it had been well used.

"That was your fathers," Griphook spoke from beside him, jerking Harry back into reality.

"He instructed us to give you his journal in the event that you unlocked your powers and he was unable to teach you in their use. He also left several spell books for you to use to master them." He explained with a small grin at Harry's look of wonder.

"D-Does it explain how to use them?" Harry asked, holding the journal tightly. It was the only thing he had to remember his father, other than the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year, and he was not going to let it go.

Griphook shrugged, "I'm not really sure, but if I knew master James as well as I think I did, then he wouldn't have just 'left you hanging' as is the term."

"A-And the envelope?" Harry asked, picking it up just as carefully as he had the journal.

"I'm not absolutely sure, but I suspect it holds letters from your parents seeing as it is addressed to you."

Harry shakily nodded as he sat the journal down and opened the envelope, he drew out two folded pieces of paper, each one having his name on them, one in the same untidy scribble as before, and the other in a much more tidy print.

Gulping, Harry unfolded his father's;

_Harry-_

_If your reading this than I must be dead. I'm sorry son, but these are hard times we live in at the moment and I'm sorry for not being there for you. _

_But I guess if you're reading this then you must have unlocked the Potter family ability. This ability allows us to control the elements to such an extent that we don't need them for spells; and that's what makes it so cool! It's like it says; we control the very elements themselves! This ability goes by several names, all based on the element or elements one can use. If you're able to control Fire it's called Pyrokinesis; if you're able to use Air it's called Aerokinesis; Earth is Geokinesis, and if you use Water it's called Hydrokinesis. _

_There are several other, lesser used elements, as there are other areas to the four main elements, I'll give you the basics but after that I'll let you find out about them on your own since they are less common than those that usually show up in the family._

_I have a feeling that you'll be able to use two elements at once, much like my father and myself could, and while I couldn't use the ability as well as others in the family could have (seeing as I have two opposing elements; Hell-Fire and Dark-Water), I suspect you'll be able to use fire and wind, and be one of, if not _the_ greatest user of them in history. _

_The most common of these elements is of course fire, since it represents passion, bravery, and creativity. All of which our family is well known for. This is the most offensive of the elements and has three different types to it. Mine was a black flame called Hell-Fire; these flames can destroy anything, or be used to cause excruciating pain. Not something I used often, mind you, but it came in handy when I needed it, be it for the occasional prank or battles._

_The other types of flames are known for their color. If it's gold then you have Holy-Fire; these are the only flames that can rival my Hell-Fire, and are used mostly for purification and can trap and/or immobilize a target. Some users have also been said to be able to use this for healing, but I haven't seen it used like this before, it's a possibility though. _

_Red or orange is normal fire. Normal fire is rather easy to bend to your will, but unpredictable if you don't have sufficient control over the flame. However, this is the element a member of the family is most likely to unlock since we are passionate with what we set our minds to. _

_Wind has been noted to be an element of unpredictability, truth seeking and does not like to be tamed. And even though it is one of the most common elements in the family, it is extremely hard to use and only those who have a really good talent are able to use it to its fullest potential and it is the most versatile of the elements. Meaning you can use it for both attack and defense; for instance, you can use the air around you to for a shield and then use that same shield to attack your opponent by transforming it into a giant gust of air to blow the opponent back. Also, if used right, this element can be better than any truth serum or potion. Simply press a hand covered with air, or surround the person you're questioning in a blanket of it, and if they're telling the truth then it will glow with a faint light. If not...well, you'll know when they're lying and that's all I'm going to say on the subject. _

_I may not know much else about this element, but I'll tell what I can. This, like Fire, has three types and all the variants can be used to detect the truth since they react to it the same way. The most recent user was my father, your grandfather, who had Dark-Wind, the first in the family to have this particular type. He was able to use this to not only blow away his opponents, but could cause them to suffocate by taking away the air around them if he were to surround them in column of this. I'm not sure how he got this, but it was after my uncle mysteriously died so I'm guessing it had something to with that._

_And like Fire, this also has different colors to go with the different types. Dark-Wind of course is a dark purple, almost black, and is the most lethal of the winds. This, however, does not take away the fact that Dark-Wind is still a truth seeker._

_Pure white is Light-wind; with this the user is able to manipulate divine winds to purify and destroy evil forces, and the user can also use these as an unbreakable shield. _

_A dull grey is normal wind, the weakest of the winds, but still quite useful if used right. The user can use this as a shield, several different types of attacks such as twisters and small gust of air that can be launched from your arms. You can even talk to others by the use of the winds once they are skilled enough. The other winds can also do all this, but on a much greater and powerful scale. _

_Earth represents stability and dependability. While common this part of the family's ability is usually used for defense, though does have some attack prepossess and is only one type; regular Earth. I don't know much other than that, so if you have this element than there are several books and family journals about this to help you on the shelves behind this table. _

_Water, representing intuition, is used expressly for defense and restraining. There is very little it can do for attacks. _

_However, like fire and wind this has three different types. Mine was much like my fire, Dark-Water. With this I was able to drown everything in my path, including normal water. I didn't really go into the books about this one much since I could very easily pull a person's fears about water out of their minds and use it against them with one of the benefits this element gave me. _

_The other two types are Holy-Water, and regular water. I suspect that Holy-Water is much like Holy-Fire and Light-Wind, mainly using it for purifying and healing prepossess._

_Regular water, well much like wind holds most of the capabilities of its stronger branches, though far weaker._

_Though if my guess is right then you'll be getting one of the fire types, along with a wind. So remember son, train those elements until you have them mastered. Of course, if you're able to get them to the point of mastering them, there's the chance that if you have one of the basic elements, it'll evolve into one of the more powerful one. Though, which one depends on what you're feeling at the time._

_Also, about my elements being dark, don't take it as a sign that I am dark, Harry, this just means that I am more aligned to the harsher forces of life. My father and mother were killed by Voldemort in my sixth year, and that was when I unlocked my own elements, and at the time I wished for nothing more than the death and destruction of Voldemort and his followers. Our elements are closely linked to our emotions, and since I was feeling such dark emotions at the time my elements became what would best help me achieve those goals. Though, since you are reading this I guess that I didn't and Lily and I are dead._

_I can only hope that you were raised by your godfather like we wanted you to be. If not, then what the hell? We told Dumbledore specifically that Sirius was to raise you! _

_Oh well, I guess there's not much I can do, being dead and all. Still doesn't change the fact that I wish I was there with you._

_Love: Dad _

_P.S.: Just remember that I believe in you, and no matter what you do, I'm proud of you._

Below this there was a small list of books to help him use his elements.

Harry had a small smile as he finished reading his father's letter, while it hadn't been much about the man himself, he could tell where he got most of his attributes from. "I wish you were here to Dad." He whispered; wiping at his eyes as tears began to form before turning his attention to the other letter in his hand.

After unfolding it, Harry saw it was written in the same neat print that was on the outside.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know I can't give you much since James handed down the Potter abilities, but I do have a few things to tell you. The first is to study hard; if you're anything like me than you're smart, smart enough to be at the top of your class if you really wanted. Though, if I know your father, then you probably inherited his lazy streak when it comes to studying. _

_Second, keep your true friends close. You might just be surprised to find jewels in the most unlikely people and always stay vigilant, even amongst those you call allies. I don't know why this is important but I'm going to go with a mother's intuition._

_And third, find yourself a good girl to settle down with. I want you to be happy, but you are the last of the potter line, and as such you cannot allow such an old and noble house die out. I'm not saying marry just to have kids, but marry the girl you truly love. And give me plenty of grandkids to spoil! _

_I really wish I was there with you, Harry, but if your reading this then my suspicions are right and James and I have perished in the war against Voldemort. But how's your life been? Has Sirius raised you right? Do you have a lot of friends?_

_You had better not have ended up with that sister of mine, because if you have, Dumbledore has some explaining to do! Petunia and her husband hate anything to do with magic, so please don't go anywhere near them. They're likely to tire to 'stamp' the magic out of you and I don't want that to happen. _

_Also if your father is right, then you should have inherited a strong Fire and Wind element. Let me tell you, Harry, those two are really difficult in mastering, so you're in for a lot of hard work when you go to train them. _

_Love: Mom_

*Sigh* "Really, Mom? Asking that of me already?" Harry muttered, his cheeks a faint red at the prospect of a girlfriend, but there was a smile on his face despite this, _'but I guess I know where I inherited my book smarts from.' _It was true too, Harry was really smart, he just didn't show it since he was always accused of cheating by the Dursleys every time he out did Dudley in grade school and it had carried over to his education in Hogwarts. _'No more,' _Harry decided as his brows furrowed, _'I promise you mom, I won't slack off anymore. I'll do better from now on.'_

The sound of Griphook clearing his throat brought Harry out of his thoughts and he turned to see the goblin waiting by the door.

"If you don't mind, Harry, but I do believe we have other business to attend to, I suggest you grab the books you require. We need to visit your trust vault after all." The goblin said in mock impatience.

Grinning, Harry nodded his head went over the shelves to collect the books his father said would help him with his Pyro and Aerokinesis powers.

After that the two left the vault and refilled Harry's money bag before heading back to the surface.

* * *

For the next two days Harry had barricaded himself in his room at the Leaky Caldron, reading each of his family books from cover to cover numerous times, just to make sure he memorized them all. He only left to eat and use the toilet. The rest of the time in his room he spent practicing with the exercises the books mentioned would help him better use his abilities. He found that his fire was the Holy-Fire his father had mentioned, and, while he wasn't proficient at it yet, he could conjure up a ball of flames and have them surround his hand when he needed to.

He'd also found that he was of a regular wind type, which actually fit him pretty well. Harry wasn't much for defensive tactics seeing as he preferred to run into the heat of things and hit hard. Though he wasn't against defense, it was his best subject after all, but he preferred a more head on approach and adjusting his actions as he went. Though, as he practiced before he went to bed, he had been able to get a small whirlwind of air to surround his left hand while he had the Holy-Fire around his right, and it was getting easier to keep them up longer the more he practiced.

However, once he had squeezed every ounce of information he could out of his books, he had found himself with nothing to do and had taken to roaming Diagon Alley, and as a result had to exercise a lot of self-control to not spend all the money he had on him. He was sorely tempted at times though, like when he saw a perfect moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball on display at one of the astronomy shops.

The thing that almost broke him appeared in his favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, a week after he'd arrived.

Curious to know why a large crowd in the shop was staring at, Harry edged his way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until he glimpsed a newly erected podium and his jaw almost dropped at the beauty he saw.

The most magnificent broom he had ever seen in his life was displayed atop the podium.

"Just came out-Prototype-" a square-jawed wizard was telling the man beside him.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" a small child squeaked as he swung off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" The prompter told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"

When a large witch moved to the side, Harry was able to read the sign next to the broom.

**THE FIREBOLT**

_THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART RACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAMLINED, SUPERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND HARD POLISH AND HAND-NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO THE AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST._

Price on request…that had been the deciding factor about buying the broom; never in his life had Harry wanted something so much, but he didn't want to think about the possibility of emptying a good portion of his vault to buy it, besides he had never lost a Quidditch match with his Nimbus Two Thousand. That and he could imagine Hermione's reaction to his buying it.

"_Harry James Potter! You just wasted a fortune on buying a racing broom when you already have a perfectly good one. That is totally irresponsible and immature!"_

Yeah, on second thought, maybe was for the best if he didn't buy it. He didn't ask for the price, but he returned, almost every day after that, just to get a look at the Firebolt.

He didn't have to do his homework in secret anymore and spent his time working on his assignments out in the open, occasionally sitting down at the local ice cream shop where he was free to snack as he worked.

There were, however, the school supplies Harry needed to buy for the approaching school year. He went to the Apothecary to replenish his potion ingredients, and got a new pair of school robes at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Most importantly though, were the new schoolbooks he needed to buy, including the ones for his two new courses, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.

Harry got a surprise as he looked at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embezzled spell books the size of pavement slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of _The Monster Book of Monsters. _Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.

Pulling out his book list, Harry saw that the book was listed as the one required for Care of Magical Creatures. Now he understood why Hagrid had said it would be useful in his letter. He felt relived; _'gotta remember to thank Hagrid the next time-'_

He was unable to finish his thought as something walked straight into him, and he fell to the ground with an audible 'umph'.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't…Harry?" a familiar voice asked in surprise.

From his spot on the ground Harry looked up into a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

"H-Hermione?"

* * *

**1.) No offense to anybody reading this, but I'm American and it makes much more since to me to write it as "mom", instead of "mum" so thats how it's going to be in this one. **

* * *

**Cut!**

'**lets out a long breath'. Okay everyone sorry I couldn't get this posted yesterday but I couldn't figure out how to explain Harry's new abilities, and kept rewriting them over and over, so I hope that you all get what I was trying to say. I will explain them further later on, but for now I'll leave it as is.**

**Please review. **


	3. Reunion

**Okay so here's the new chap for you guys. Hope you all like it, because I'm going to be taking a short time off of this to work on my demigod ninja story. I've been meaning to update it for a while now but my minds been so full of ideas for this one that I had to get this out first.**

**I edited the last chapter some, trying to make the explanation on Harry's abilities a bit more understood and less confusing.**

**To dfg: I realize that, and I'm considering the option of somehow making his current element to evolve into it. Might take a while though.**

**Hero of all: I might take you up on some of your suggestions, but Harry is not getting a new wand…at least not for a while.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

**Chapter three: Reunion**

Harry Potter had done and seen much in his short thirteen years of life. At the mere age of a year, he had managed to somehow defeat the most powerful dark wizard of his time, only to have to face the ghost of that very man ten years later when he had made a grab for the Sorcerers' Stone. And just the year before he had fought off a twenty foot basilisk and then the reincarnated memory of its master in order to save those who had been petrified; all this and more had been faced with an unwavering amount of courage on Harry's part.

However, as he stared into the eyes of his best friend, all that courage seemed to fail him. Hermione Granger, the most brilliant witch of his year, stood above him, looking remarkably beautiful. Her skin was a great deal tanner than it was the last time he had saw her. Her dark brown eyes twinkled with happiness as she looked down on him, her usually bushy brown hair looked to have been tamed somewhat since then too, and she wore a delighted smile on her face. Harry felt his face reddening at the sight before he pulled himself out of his trance.

"H-Hermione?" he asked, getting up from the spot he had fallen to when Hermione had walked into him.

Hermione nodded excitedly at the Boy-Who-Lived before she wrapped him into a hug, "It is you!" she happily exclaimed.

Chuckling, Harry wrapped his arms around her to return the embrace. Now that he was standing he found that he'd grown to be a few inches taller than Hermione.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be here for a few more days." Harry said pulling back and looking at the teenage witch.

"My parents decided to come home a little earlier than expected and dropped me off so I can do all my shopping and wait for you and Ron." Hermione said before her smile dropped and her look became inquisitive, "but what about you? I thought you'd have to fight your relatives tooth and nail to get them to let you come here."

Harry snorted; "Yeah, I thought I would too, but that was before…" he trailed off, not wanting her to know about what had happened.

Hermione was taken aback, surprised by Harry's reluctant voice, "What? What happened?" She asked, her eyes narrowing at the boy.

Harry sighed in resignation. He knew that look, it was a look Hermione wore when she wanted something, and more often than not that something turned out to be answers, answers that weren't often to her liking. Harry knew better than to go against it.

"Nothing much," he muttered, "but I kinda…." He said the rest in a low whisper.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you." Hermione asked leaning a little closer so she could hear him better.

"I, um, blew up my uncle's sister." Harry admitted, looking away in embarrassment.

"You what?!" Hermione exploded; her eyes wide and he mouth hanging open. Passerbies on the street looked at the two with looks annoyance at the sudden exclamation.

"Do you know how many laws are against doing something like that against a muggle?" she continued, oblivious to the looks being sent her way. "Do you have any idea what would have happened had you been-" she was stopped when Harry's hand was suddenly over her mouth.

"Not here, 'Mione, I'll explain what happened later; when we're somewhere where there aren't prying ears." Harry said; ignoring her glare as his eyes darted to the crowded street.

Hermione, taking the hint that Harry didn't want to be overheard, sighed into his hand and nodded reluctantly.

"Oh, fine." She said after he had retracted his limb, "but you had better explain to me exactly what happened later." She added, crossing her arms and sending him a glare that said he was not getting out of this.

"Yes ma'am!" was Harry's cheeky reply as he snapped off a mock solute.

Hermione rolled her eyes good naturally at Harry's playfulness, before asking, "What were you doing any way? I was about to start getting my new school books when I bumped into you."

Harry grinned and led her into Flourish and Blotts. "The same, actually, but I had stopped to, um; _admire_ their new display of books." He said, pausing for a second to find the right word to accurately describe what he was doing outside the shop and gesturing to the display of monster books (which fit it for both literature content and the thing itself).

Hermione nodded, "I know what you mean," she said, "but why would the Care of Magical Creatures professor assign a book like that? It sounds like something Hagrid would be interested in." she said with mirth in her voice to show that she held no insult in her statement.

"It does, doesn't it?" Harry asked, and now that he thought about it, it did sound like something the half-giant would do if he were assigned the class.

That thought seemed to strike them both at the same time as they froze and slowly turned to look at the other; mirrored expressions of mirth on their faces.

"You don't think-" Harry started to ask.

"That Hagrid is the new Care of Magical Creatures professor?" Hermione finished. Harry nodded, and she shrugged, "it's possible. After all he does know more about the creatures in the Forbidden Forest than anyone else."

Harry nodded to that logic, it sounded possible. And he knew his friend deserved a better post at Hogwarts than what he had been given after his brief imprisonment in Azkaban the year before.

"We'll have to find out at Dumbledore's welcoming speech. For all we know, the new professor could just be someone with an unhealthy taste of magical creatures." Hermione's voice broke him from his thoughts.

Harry nodded again, not bothering to remind her that was another of Hagrid's characteristics; after all, the man had a reputation for raising giant, three-headed dogs, and hatching a dragon egg he got from a stranger, in his cabin.

"Well at least I now know why he said the book would be useful when he sent it to me." He said absently.

Hermione's head turned form the books on display to him, a bewildered look on her face. "You already have it?" she asked with wide eyes and a partially open mouth.

"Yeah, Hagrid sent it to me for my birthday. Arrived at the same time yours and Ron's presents, actually. Thanks by the way." Harry said with a grin directed at her.

Hermione returned the smile a little shyly, "no thanks needed, I just thought you might find it useful." She said, but her face turned serious. "But I believe we have some books to buy." She said as she took Harry by the arm and practically dragged him through the doors.

Harry could only smile and let himself be led into the book store.

* * *

One Albus Dumbledore was not having a good week. The reason for his distress? One Harry Potter and the recent occurrences in the boy's life.

He had hoped that young Harry would not unlock his families' ability until he was at least in his fifth year of school. Dumbledore had hoped, Merlin had he hoped, the stressor needed to unlock Harry's elements would only come when the boy was old enough to handle the truths that would have to be revealed afterwards.

Dumbledore knew that once Harry unlocked his elements and took possession of his father's journal and the letters from his parents he'd have a lot of answering up to do. Harry was liable to get curious of some of the hidden facts of his life after he read the journal and the letters his parents left for him, and Dumbledore would have to answer the boy's questions truthfully.

He'd thought he'd done Harry some good leaving him with his aunt and uncle instead of his godfather like his parents had asked. He'd thought that keeping the boy away from the magical world and the fame he had acquired with the defeat of Lord Voldemort would have been for the best. Only when he next saw the boy had he realized how wrong he had been.

Instead of a well taken care of and eager young boy, like he'd been expecting, Harry had been deathly thin, shy, slightly introverted and one of the shortest in his year, he suspected by the way the boy held himself that he was constantly on guard, it was almost like he was expecting an attack on his person at anytime. Dumbledore's concerns were only proven to be correct after Harry had visited the hospital wing the first time; the boy had been beaten, numerous times at that. He'd even be close to unlocking his powers at the time.

It was only after that that Dumbledore had cursed his optimistic mind. He'd thought he'd been doing the boy some good leaving him on his relative's doorstep that night so many years ago. No, instead of being well taken care of, Harry had been neglected, starved and abused as a result and Dumbledore found himself wishing to go back in time to correct that mistake.

But alas, it was impossible and only a time turner could travel through time; and even then it had a limit of twenty four hours.

However, since the boy had started his education, Dumbledore had saw a significant change in him. Harry had grown several inches since the first school year now that he had a steady diet for most of the year, and as a result had become one of the tallest of his year. The boy had become more confident and relaxed around his friends and the distance Harry was from unlocking his powers had started to increase. Hell, Harry had even defeated Voldemort twice since he had stared school without them!

Dumbledore had started to think that Harry would be able to get through most of his school life without the need for them at the end of last year and had relaxed once he knew he had some time between then and when Harry would be able to use them, and thus a delay to the answers Harry would need to hear.

That, however, had gone down the proverbial drain when a devise Dumbledore had used to monitor the boy's abilities had gone off. And he now found himself sitting at his desk pondering what he was going to do.

So far, Dumbledore had come up with three possible answers to the situation he found himself in. He could, of course, deny everything and leave the boy on his own. He quickly tossed that idea out. If Harry had indeed unlocked his abilities and gained access to his family vault, and by proxy his parents letters, he would have questions as to why he had been left with his aunt and uncle instead of his Godfather like his parents had asked.

That question was easy enough to answer, because one Sirius Orion Black had been in Azkaban for the last decade for betraying the Potters to Voldemort. Not something Albus looked forward to revealing to the thirteen year old. However, given that the man had recently escaped from the prison, something that should have been impossible, and who he was after, then Harry would need to be told.

Another thing Dumbledore could do was send Harry away until he had sufficient control of his powers. This was a possible answer to the current situation, but Dumbledore doubted the boy or his friends would be too happy about that, and were likely to rebel against the very mention of it. Dumbledore chuckled softly; it was good to see the boy had such loyal friends.

The last and possibly the most reasonable idea, was that he could tell Harry everything, and train him. That of course led him to another predicament; it would be seen as favoritism by the students and board of governors. There was, of course, someone else who knew of Harry's abilities and could show him a way to harness them (1). But the man would already be tied up with a prior engagement, and not likely to be able to do so.

An aged fist was suddenly slammed onto Dumbledore's desk, and the aged man had a serious look on his face. _'To hell with the governors!' _he decided, and moved to take a bottle of ink, a quill, and a bit of parchment out of a drawer in the desk. _'I've sat back and let Harry suffer for far too long. It's time I told him everything. Hopefully he'll forgive this mistaken old man.' _He began to write.

If one were to look up at the time, they'd see Albus' phoenix, Fawkes, nodding his head. It was about time his master took an active stand in the dark haired boy's life.

* * *

"Now, I believe you owe me an explanation, Harry." Hermione stated as she sat on the chair to Harry's desk in his room at the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry sighed as he dumped his book laden bags on the floor and sat on his bed.

The two had managed to get their shopping done in a few hours. Though, the book shopping had been a memorable experience. As soon as Hermione had said that she needed the _Monster Book of Monsters, _the assistant had almost cried, he had already been bitten five times by then and wasn't looking to risk his appendages a sixth. Luckily he'd been able to retrieve one of the books without a single injury to his person. After that it had been a simple job of gathering up all the books the two needed to purchase. Hermione, Harry thought, seemed to have too many books for them to be for a small number of classes. When asked about it she had simply said she was taking more subjects then he was, and by the end of their shopping had not one, but three bulging bags of books.

After a quick stop by Hermione's room, this was coincidently right across from his, so she could drop off their books, they found themselves where they were now; Harry's room and Hermione had decided to get the explanation promised to her.

"Honestly, Hermione, I can't really explain what happened. Vernon's sister was insulting my parents and I lost control of my magic." He explained, looking over to the girl who was observing him with a critical look.

Hermione flinched; insulting Harry's parents was a taboo among their group of friends, and a fourth year who had done such a thing the year before was later found hog tied, stripped to his boxers, a sign saying _insensitive ass _hanging around his neck and a sticking charm gluing him to the roof of the entrance hall of Hogwarts. When questioned about it, the fourth year had refused to tell who the culprit was and had quickly vacated the area. The individual responsible had yet to be caught. Though, Harry had an oddly satisfied smirk for a week after that.

Hermione counted Marge lucky that she was only made to swell like a balloon. She took a deep breath to quell the rising urge to reprimand her friend. "Is blowing up your aunt the only thing that happened?" she asked, staring at the boy before her with an inquisitive glare.

Harry gulped; he wasn't sure how Hermione would take this next part. "Well…," he reluctantly started; only to shrink back at the glare being sent his way.

"Harry James Potter," Hermione growled, "tell me what happened this instant!"

Gulping, Harry quickly explained the events leading up to Marge's inflation, his running away, the talk with the minister and his stay at the Leaky Cauldron.

"That's what happened, Hermione." He finished with a winded sigh. By the end of Harry's story Hermione's expression was that of surprise. She could not have believe her friend had unlocked an ability such as what he described. Elemental spells were far and few between, but powerful if used correctly; Hermione doubted if the headmaster knew very many elementals.

"H-Harry?" she tentatively asked. "Are you sure you're able to use magic like that? I mean, I've run across mentions of this ability in the research I've done of the wizarding world, but it never specifically said what family was able to use this ability."

Harry smirked at his friend, "would you like me to show you?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Could you?" Hermione asked eagerly.

Harry chuckled, but nodded and held out both his hands while his eyes closed in concentration. In one hand he focused his passion and anger, in the other he focused his creativity and enthusiasm.

Each element, much like a person, had its own personality traits and, if manipulated right, those emotions could be used to control the elements they corresponded with. The books Harry used to practice his elements with suggested that he focused on the responding traits of his personality to bring his elements out. It was a basic practice, and one Harry used every night before he went to bed, and every time he called on his elements this way it became easier.

He knew it worked when he heard Hermione's gasp, and the now familiar feelings of warmth in one hand and swirling air in the other and by the now familiar drain on his magic.

Grinning, Harry opened his eyes only to see the face of his friend close to his hands and a curious look in her eyes.

The way the small amount of light from the fire in his hand lit up her face and the small breeze coming from the whirling ball of wind in his other blowing against her hair made Hermione look exceptionally beautiful to him. Harry didn't know why, but he felt as if he never wanted this moment to end, as if he wanted it to go on forever.

However, he was broken out of his revere when Hermione spoke, never taking her eyes away from the bright fire and doll ball of grey wind in his hands.

"This is amazing, Harry!" she exclaimed. "To be able to use to elements at once takes a great amount of skill, and you don't even look tired!" she commented excitedly as she finally looked away from the elements her friend was wielding with bare hands.

Harry smiled slightly at the girl, "it wasn't always like this," he said. "I haven't been able to control them both at the same time like I just did. The books my parents left me said I would only be able to do that if I had a reasonable amount of control over them, and once I did then I would be ready to move on to the next level."

"How many levels are there?" Hermione asked, she amazed that Harry had gotten past the first of what sounded to be several levels in a little over a week.

Harry's smile grew at Hermione's curiosity; she was always someone who was eager to learn.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking, "from what the books said there are at least six levels of mastery for every kinesis ability." He began, getting up from his spot on the bed and walking over to the desk in his room where the small stack of books from his vault rested. He picked up the top which was titled: '_Everything You Need to Know About Your Kinesis Abilities __by Aaron Potter.'_

This was the book that had taught him how to bring out his elements.

"The first level is the Beginners Level." Harry said; Hermione nodded as she eyed the book in his hands hungrily. Harry smirked slightly at her look. "This level is basically figuring out the best ways to bring out my elements and gives suggestions on how to control them and once I was able to wield them both I was ready to go on to the next."

"The second, and the one I am currently at, is the Apprentice level." Harry explained; Hermione nodded again, never taking her eyes from the book. "At this level I'll start on the basic manipulation and begin learning some low powered spells. But I need to make another trip to Gringotts to get the Apprentice books."

Here he stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts; this next part had confused him a bit, but maybe that was just him.

"The next is intermediate," he began, unsure of how to explain it. "When I reach this level, I'll be able to start on the harder elemental spells and start learning how to cast them without incantations and some _other _interesting stuff."

Hermione's eyes finally left the book in Harry's hands and looked up at him in interest, "what do you mean by _other?"_ she asked curiously.

Harry shrugged, "I'm not really sure," he admitted. "This level kinda confused me since it listed off a lot more things I need to do in order to master it. I'll be in for a rough time when I get to this level and begin working on it."

Hermione nodded, while it wasn't the answer she was looking for it did answer her in a way. She was about to ask something when she yawned.

Seeing this, Harry glanced at his watch to see that it was getting late. "Well I think that's enough for right now, 'Mione." He said and raised his hands in defense when she glared at him.

"Don't give me that look; it's been a long day and we both need our rest." He reasoned. "I promise we'll finish this in the morning, over breakfast."

Hermione's face soured, but she nodded reluctantly. "Fine," she sighed. "But could I possibly barrow that book afterwards?" she asked, pointing to the book still in his Harry's hands. "Maybe I could read through it and help you understand anything that confuses you?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment as he considered Hermione's request. If he did let her barrow it he could have someone else's view on how to use his powers, and possibly clear up any questions he may have. But if he didn't, he risked hurting Hermione's feelings, it wasn't that he didn't want any help or anything, but this was something of his family's, something he'd just found out about and wasn't quite ready to let anyone else handle them.

But one look at Hermione's hopeful expression decided the decision for him. He smiled at the girl, "that's okay with me," he said, "but only after breakfast tomorrow." He added.

Hermione nodded happily, and bound over to him and wrapped him in a strong embrace, "oh, thank you Harry!" she exclaimed, before leaning up and briefly pressing her lips against his cheek.

Harry felt heat rising in his cheeks when she did this and could only stare as she released him with a blush and hurried out of the room.

Harry raised a shaky hand to his face, "H-Hermione?" he whispered to himself, before a wide grin took root on his face.

He changed into his night cloths and fell into bed, that happy grin still on his face as he drifted off to sleep. In the room across from him, Hermione's expression was the same as she too drifted into the land of dreams.

Unbeknownst to either of them, their night had only just begun.

* * *

**1.) Yes, its exactly who you think it is.**

* * *

**CUT!**

**Okay everyone sorry for the slight delay in getting this one out, but I've been really busy lately and have mostly been working on my other stories when I've had the time to write. **

**And yes I know the ending was rushed, but it's late here and I'm really tired right now.**

**Please review.**


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